


Keeping Up

by TheSmileILiveFor (MissCordayLewis)



Category: Fleetwood Mac (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCordayLewis/pseuds/TheSmileILiveFor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christine hides out in Stevie's condo once more during one more of John's drunken outbursts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Up

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Rumours era.

His screams pierced through even the rather thick walls of Stevie’s condo. She tiptoed around the house and zipped her mouth as for him not to discover her inside. This scene has been going on for five straight days, and frankly, she’s close to losing it. 

It started when he heard from the grapevine (in this case, Mick) that she’s been seeing Curry in between recording sessions. As they both do in times of distress, he turned to the bottle, and when he turns to the bottle, the Jekyll rears its ugly head. Moments later, she heard the banging of fists on a wooden door. “CHRISTINE, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, YOU FUCKING COW.”

She grabbed the emergency bottle of Blue Nun she kept in Stevie’s fridge and removed the cork in one swift, expert motion before filling up her glass. She kept telling him to stop drinking, but he kept telling her he made her do it.

"As if I’m the one to talk." she said to herself before taking a swig of wine. 

Flashbacks of happy moments between them entered her head. From the Chicken Shack-Fleetwood Mac pub sessions in between tour dates, to trips to the London Zoo where John, with his camera on hand, pointed the lens at penguins breeding with each other, to the times where they had to share space at the back of trucks with a measly blanket to spare.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a thud outside. She raced to the door and opened it to find him passed out in front of the space dividing the two adjacent units. Typical.

With all the strength she could muster, she carried John by the arms and dragged him inside her condo until they reached her couch. After which she helped him up and laid him to his side. She placed a basin on top of the table, in case he blew chunks. For the entire time, she watched him sleep it off, focusing on the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing. He occasionally moaned and groaned, but nothing more unusual than that. She sat on the leftover space on her couch and stroked his forehead, brushing the sweat slick hair off his face. “I love you, Johnny, but I don’t know how long I could keep up with this.”


End file.
